The Blind Leading the Blind
by ARBliss
Summary: Harry Potter is rendered blind as his uncle's bitterness peaks. How will he save the wizarding world now? Help from a very unexpected source that the ministry has been trying to keep hushed up. Rated T, graphic violence and language rating may change
1. Prologue: Trouble at Home

_AN: Hey, My name is Bliss and this is my first FanFic. I hope y'all like it. It's a bit of a plot bunny, but isn't everything now. The thing is, I don't know anyone on this site and I'm really looking for a beta, so if anyone would like to, let me know. Thanks! Enjoy…_

_Disclaimer: Oops, almost forgot one of these. The characters that you recognize belong to the great JK Rowling, who is wonderful for writing this, but horrible for killing off Sirius ( I was going to bring him back, but figured that was too unrealistic) _

Red

The last thing he remembered seeing was red. Blood red. Staining the sheets. Staining the floor. His own blood running in rivulets off his body. The brilliant riot of red, flash of light, before everything went black.

Black.

The darkness was all he had now, overwhelming him. The darkness and the pain.

What would the wizarding world say now? How would they like their dying hero? Blind and helpless at the hands of muggles. A bitter laugh escaped his throat, emerging hoarsely; it had been so long since he'd laughed. It was amusing though. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, could not even defend himself properly. He had beat Voldemort four times and couldn't even fend off one angry mustachioed muggle.

He remembered how it had all started, him back at Number Four Privet Drive for the summer, the Durseley's ignoring him due to Moody's threats as they had got off the train. Harry had reveled in the solitude. Wallowed in his grief and his anger. Sirius was gone. It was his fault. Dumbledore had betrayed him. Everyone betrayed him. Sirius was gone. He was all alone. At least he could find peace in his misery.

Until the letter came. Uncle Vernon had been fired from work, Dudley kicked out of Smeltings. The letter had said it was his fault. That he, Harry Potter, had used his magic to make it happen.

Ignoring the fact that it was impossible due to the expulsion that would result from the use of magic outside of school, Vernon had flown into a rage, knocking Harry halfway across the kitchen, before dragging him upstairs swearing.

The beatings had begun from there, starting with the belt, then progressing onto heavier objects. Every evening, Vernon would make sure that he was well enough to send a letter off to the Order. Harry didn't understand why they couldn't see through the letters, their mechanical nature and hollow assurances. But no one came. Finally, Uncle Vernon had him write several letters, just dating them differently.

"You going to kill me?" Harry had croaked, hope sparking in his eyes. He wanted it all to end.

But his uncle had just grinned. "No, can't have those freaks show up later. Just don't want to have to keep making sure you're hands still work. You've got to be punished. We clothe you, we feed you, and this is how you repay us."

That night had been the worst, Harry had blacked out from the pain on his back and chest, his breath ragged. Finally he felt someone haul him up.

"Open you're eyes boy," Harry did as told, wishing he had the courage to use magic and risk expulsion to the only place he had ever been accepted. He looked around his room, taking in the blood and mess, before his head was jerked back and his eyes began to burn, first the right, then the left.

"Lets see you try to do your bloody magic now, freak." He heard his uncle chuckle. His head was released and his hands instinctively went to his eyes. But the blackness wouldn't fade, the pain wouldn't recede, his screaming didn't fade until his voice was too hoarse to scream anymore.

The days began to blend, fading in and out of consciousness, but the blackness remained. Now, he felt sweet relief in nothing but the dull ache that was ever present. Vernon, he refused to think of him as uncle anymore, must be off looking for a job or something. Harry attempted to sit up, banging his head on something. Giving himself some time to let the pain recede, he ran his hand over what he had hit, discovering it was the side of the bed. Using strength he didn't realize he had left, he pulled himself clumsily up onto the bed and sank into the softness. Peace.

The door banged open suddenly. "What, trying to rest, freak?" Harry heard Vernon snarl from across the room, as he picked up something that sounded hard and metal. "You don't think I'd forget you're birthday did you?"

Damn.

_AN: There it is, first chapter. The rest will be longer I swear. Again, pleas for a beta, cause I really want to improve my writing. Also, even if you don't want to beta, please review. This is going to be my only project on fanfic, so enjoy and reviews will keep me updating faster_


	2. You Can Run, But You Can't Hide

_AN: I'm sooo sorry…lengthy explanation at the bottom_

_Disclaimer: I do not own… You do not sue, it's really a win/win situation (or a lose/lose considering I would LOVE to own HP and you would probably love to sue me for millions of dollars)_

Awareness sank in again, for the first time punctuated by someone else's screams. Many someones. Harry sat up with a start, and banged his head on something hard. Hands reaching tentatively above him, he found it to be one of his dresser drawers, open, so he shut it and, more carefully this time, sat up. The screams continued, and as Harry strained his ears he noticed voices shouting curses beneath him.

Shit. There were people out there, hurt and dying, and he couldn't do anything. He hated feeling so helpless. Where was his wand? Right, under the loose floorboard. Where was that? He had no idea.

Tentatively, he began to crawl, hoping to find the floorboard. His fingers skimmed along the edges of each board, hoping to find the one with the nails out of place and the edge uneven. It had to be around here somewhere…

"Well, well, well… What do we have here?"

Harry froze at the sound of someone behind him. There was no mistaking the smooth aristocratic voice of Lucius Malfoy, nor the stereotypical villain sound bytes.

"Looking for something Mr. Potter? Having trouble are we?" The floorboards of Harry's room creaked, but he couldn't tell the direction in which the voice was coming from. He turned wildly, trying to locate it. How did Malfoy get in, anyway? What happened to the wards? Now was not the time for questions, well not those questions.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He questioned, braver than he felt. Now that he was faced with death, Harry found that despite his grief, despite his guilt, he was not ready to face it, to just accept it. For the first time all summer, he wanted to live.

"I want a lot of things, Mr. Potter, but I doubt we have time to go through it all now. Besides, this is not about what I want. It is about what my master wants. And right now, he wants you."

Even in this situation, Harry paused to think about the utter wrongness of that statement, before baring his teeth in a growl and replying, "Over my dead body."

"A bit over dramatic aren't we Mr. Potter. Don't worry, you're death will not be necessary. Just enjoyable. But enough conversation"

Harry felt the air stir around him and heard a "Stupefy!" from across the room. He knew, instinctively that he had to be anywhere other than where he was right now and flung himself to one side. As he moved he say, wait, saw, saw a beam of red light flash by his former position. Scooting back, he felt his back hit a wall.

Somewhere in front of him, Malfoy growled in frustration and repeated the curse. This time, as Harry dodged to one side, he felt himself hit another wall. Dammit, he'd backed himself into a corner. He could almost feel the triumphant smirk in Lucius Malfoy's voice.

"You can run, Potter, but you can't hide. Well, never mind," He continued, in a voice feigning surprise. "No where to run either. Well it looks like this is the end…"

"Stupefy."

A shot of red light shot across the room, briefly illuminating the outline of a tall man, who must be Malfoy. The next thing Harry heard was the crumpling of a body and a soft thud as it hit the ground. What the hell?

The second voice spoke again. "Jackass," it sounded female and surprisingly young, but the words came out funny, like she had never learned to speak properly. What the hell was going on? "Are you okay kid? Hold on."

He felt a hand come down gently on his shoulder, and flinched away. The voice made a soothing sound in the back of her throat. "What's wrong?" Hands placed themselves under his chin and tilted his head up. "Yikes, that blows. Well, minor setback. I'm going to make myself visible to you, so just hold on a second."

Harry blinked, astonished, as a face came into view before him. It was a young woman, with short light brown hair, piercing gray eyes and a strong Roman nose. She lifted the corner of her mouth in a half grin.

"Wha-what did you do?" He managed to stammer out. He still couldn't see anything else, just her.

"I allowed you to see my aura, being a wizard means you have the potential to see magic…they didn't teach you this at school?" Harry mutely shook his head and the woman muttered something about an incompetent old coot. Harry guessed she meant Dumbledore and tried to smile, but it seems his entire face hurt. The face in front of him frowned.

"Don't move, we're gonna get you out of here." She pulled something from her pocket, flipping it open. Again, Harry could see the device, it reminded him of the new cell phone Dudley had gotten. Instead of putting it to her ear, however, she held it flat out in front of her. "Mordecai" In response, an image of young man wavered, and then came in to view before her.

"Commander?"

"I've got him, send two men up to me, then call retreat."

"What about the rest of the Death Eaters?"

"Freeze 'em. The Fried Chicken Club can clean 'em up."

"Yes, Commander."

The image winked out and the woman turned back to Harry. "I'm sorry this is kinda abrupt, but we gotta get you out of here so Althea…she's our healer…can look at you. You took a beatin', that's for damn sure."

Harry wanted to respond, ask one of the millions of questions floating in his head, but he hurt too much to speak. Instead he studied the girl in front of him, trying to determine her trustworthiness. He had had too many bad experiences with being duped. Footsteps sounded to his right and he turned his head, but again saw nothing.

"Cole, Emlyn, lift him, carefully." The woman started ordering them about. "I'll create a portal, we've got to get him to 'Thea."

Too late now, Harry thought, as vortex of swirling light opened up in front of him, and he blacked out.

_AN: Ok here goes my litany of excuses…_

_I was away all summer_

_I finally get home and my dad says "o, btw, the internet is down."_

_I read HBP and now had to decide if I was going to reconcile the plot line with it…But I'm not_

_And now I'm back! Thanks to my lovely reviewers!_

_And extra bonus points for those who recognize the significance of the names (this will be ongoing with the story!)_


	3. Seeing is Believing

Disclaimer: Don't own it

Harry woke yet again, fighting the fog that had over come him. I have to stop doing that, he thought, annoyed with himself. He tried to open his eyes but was met with more blackness. Then it all came rushing back to him. Uncle Vernon, the Death Eater Attack, that woman. He stopped. Who the hell was she. All he knew was that she was called "Commander." Only informative up to the point that she held some authority wherever they were, and that she was unusually young to do so, if the picture of her face he had "seen" was anything to go by.

"You're awake."

It was a different voice, still young, female and with a decidedly unusual slur, but different never the less. He spun his head around, trying to locate the source.

"Calm down, you're not fully healed yet." Harry disregarded her and continued to thrash. The voice took on a hard edge. "Mr. Potter cease and desist."

"You'd better listen," Came the voice of the woman who had saved him. "'Thea has a nasty streak when it comes to her patients' health."

A face flared up next to him, then another. It was the young woman from earlier and another one, equally young, but with a distinct Asian look to her, reminding him of Cho. He cringed without thinking. That relationship had been disastrous, it had always led back to Cedric.

"I told you, you're not fit to be moving yet." 'Thea informed him, misinterpreting the wince and gently but firmly forcing him to lie back down. "You had sustained some serious injuries and it took quite a lot of magic to heal. I actually expected you to sleep for another few days."

"Well he didn't," The first woman, who's name he still didn't know. "He's a fighter, like the rest of us."

"Name?" He managed to croak.

'Thea's brows drew together with an almost audible click. "He didn't seem to have any major brain damage. Certainly not amnesia." She muttered to herself, bustling over to a section of the wall next to Harry's bed. She seemed to be checking something. At this moment, she reminded him less of Cho and more of Madame Pomfrey, which he found distinctly comforting.

"He means my name," The other woman said, laughing slightly. "We never were properly introduced." She turned to him and nodded solemnly. "I'm Alexandra, Lexi for short."

"Harry Potter" he responded, though he knew she already knew his name. "What about you're last name?"

"Don't have one," Lexi looked pensive for a moment. "Well I did, but when you join up, you lose it, and are newly christened with a name that is more suitable to your personality or job or whatever."

"Really? Why?" Harry was intrigued. Who were these people?

"We're government now, like Men In Black." At Harry's blank look, she continued "Muggle movie, never mind. We can't have existed, the government has to be able to deny our existence if the need come up. Plus, it's nice to be able to have a name that is reflection of self, take 'Thea for example. Her full name is Althea, which is Greek for Healer."

"Why? Why can't you exist I mean."

"Now that's a much more complicated question. It has to do with who we are as an organization. The organization is formally known as the Inter-Dimensional Protection Agency, though the government calls it the IDPA and we call it just The Agency. We basically take care of anything that bleeds from the borders of other dimensions, which the government can't technically know about, since the general populace can't know. But we still rely on them for funding and information, all that stuff."

'Thea snorted quietly. "Not like they're much help on that front." Lexi merely shrugged and nodded.

"What did you expect? They're government"

Harry just stared at them, still feeling a little bit disoriented. "Why can I see you?"

"You are a wizard ain't ya?"

He nodded dumbly, not really knowing where the conversation was going, following 'Thea's movements out of the corner of his eye, as she gathered something off the shelf. Lexi followed his line of sight.

"Look at 'Thea," She instructed softly. "What do you see?"

"Ummmm…." Was this a trick question? "'Thea, standing over there, collecting these liquids that…that…" Harry stopped abruptly, staring at the potions that seemed to be suspended in midair.

"What you are seeing is magic. Almost all wizards have this capability, yet because they are able to see physically, they do not recognize the ability. What you see of me and 'Thea are our auras, how they fill our bodies. Even muggles have bits of magic within that will make them visible to this sight. The way that wizards see spells just shows one of the ways in which they see it. The loss of your other sight has increased your recognition for this one. That's why you can now see the auras as well as the magic within the potions."

Harry gaped, and then something nagged at him. "But why couldn't I see the other to guys? Or Malfoy?"

"All of my agents learn how to repress their auras. See, off!" Suddenly, he couldn't see Lexi anymore. "On!" she reappeared. "It's a trick I'll teach you. Malfoy could probably do that or old Voldemort gave him a medallion to mask it. That's probably how he got through the wards around your house."

Harry looked down, trying to process it all. His house…were Vernon and Petunia gone? Dudley? Was he really that upset about it? They had…No; he really didn't want to think about it. This aura seeing thing was puzzling though.

"Why did you save me?"

"Someone had to. You looked like you were in a shitload of trouble, and I don't just mean by Malfoy and Voldemort." She looked at him enquiringly. "Care to share?"

Harry felt a blush of shame sting his cheeks and looked down, shaking his head. He really didn't want to talk about it. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"If you want to t talk about it, anyone here can help. Most of us because soldiers for a reason." Lexi's voice was soft and sympathetic, and the pain in her eyes matched his own. "Besides," Her voice took on a more businesslike tone. "We're not totally ignorant and someone has to train you."

"Why?" He was confused again.

"You're a prophecy child." She said, as if that explained everything. "Now let 'Thea put you back to sleep, you look like you could do with some more rest."

"And stop fighting my potions Mr. Potter!" He heard 'Thea's sharp voice as he once again sank into blackness.

AN: No excuses, just apologies.

The names all have meaning behind them, just because they are derived from something. It's also a trick JK Rowling used a lot also. Anyway, recap of names used so far:

Althea: explained, Greek for Healer

Alexandra: Greek, protector of mankind

Mordecai: Hebrew, warrior

Cole: Gaelic, warrior

Emlyn: Welsh, brave and noble warrior

(if you couldn't tell, the last three were soldiers from the raid, they will probably make an appearance later)


	4. Beginning to Make Sense of It

_Usual Disclaimer, author's note at the bottom:_

For the third time in what seemed like a very short amount of time, Harry pushed himself into wakefulness. His mind raced trying to sort all of the conflicting ideas in his head. There was a secret government agency that had kidnapped him-although he would have come willingly if he had been physically capable of doing so. They were healing him, he noted that his body barely protested as he shifted into a seated position. They knew about the prophecy. The top-secret prophecy. The so top secret even he wasn't supposed to know about it, even though it was about him.

Harry started reassessing his opinion of these people from merely helpful and powerful to kick-arse.

"Take this," Harry saw the potion shoved under his nose, and turned to see Althea bustling at his bedside. Now that he looked closer he could see a series of machines, similar to those in a muggle hospital, pulsing next to him. Thea followed his line of sight and nodded. "Well, you're alive. Congratulations."

"Thank you?" He answered hesitantly, unsure about whether or not she was joking. She gave him a small smile, gestured again to the potion and then bustled off. Harry wondered if that was the approved motion for nurses and doctors-bustling. He had never seen anyone else do it, except maybe Mrs. Weasley in full on mothering mode.

Harry drank the potion and sat, contemplating the room. Or, the parts of the room he could see. The machines to his left continued to pulse different colors, but he couldn't begin to decipher their various meanings. Along the far wall, a great distance away, he saw the same floating liquids, arranged in different shapes at different levels, in what he would assume were bottles on shelves. There was a door across from him, that Thea had entered and exited through. Harry assumed that he could see it because of the wards, and the door handle several feet down because of the locking spell. The door handle was in some ways more disconcerting than the floating liquids because it was a single object surrounded by pitch blackness.

Harry continued his scan. Nothing, nothing, nothing. It was surprising. He expected the room, the Hospital wing, to more magic infused. Nothing. Oh!

A man was sitting directly to his right. He was tall, his long legs were folded under him and stuck out like a stork's, with curly hair and wide eyes surrounded by laugh lines. Harry wasn't sure if he was sitting on another bed or a chair, that type of pose didn't seem possible. When he noticed Harry looking at him he smiled.

"I'm Damyon," he said, pronouncing it like Damien. "I'm one of the trainers here."

"Harry," Harry responded. "What do you mean, train?"

"People join the Agency fairly young, usually around ten or eleven. Sometimes even earlier if they have a reason. We're kind of a band of misfits, and we take in whoever needs it. Because we're primarily a government outpost, we need everyone to specialize in something that will help meet our mission statements. That means, in addition to regular school, students learn muggle and magical combat styles, politics and espionage, trans-dimensional theories, or anything else we find useful at the time. I train the older ones in explosives." As he said this last statement, his grin took on a sharper edge.

"Damyon takes a little too much pleasure in blowing shit up." Lexi's voice chimed in. Harry's rescuer joined the taller man on what Harry determined must be a bed. "Don't let the yoga pose fool you." She added. Damyon made no move to deny the allegations. Studying the two of them together, Harry realized how much older Damyon was then he first appeared. While Lexi couldn't be more than three or four years older than Harry himself, Damyon might be anywhere from 35 to 40. His exuberant attitude made him seem much younger.

Like she had earlier, Lexi seemed to follow his train of thought. "Once we've trained that mage-sight of yours up a bit, you'll be able to see the grey in his hair. In the mean time, you should know he counts his birthdays backwards now."

Harry frowned. How did she do that? The question led to other, bigger questions. What was he doing here?

"Ask." Lexi said.

"What am I doing here?" He responded. Then rushed on, "Not that I'm not grateful and everything, but I don't know why you're bothering with me. Why I'm meeting all these people and you're telling me about this top secret government agency like it doesn't mean anything."

"I told you about our job, do you remember?"

"Yeah," Harry furrowed his brow, remembering their previous conversation, "stuff from other dimensions."

"Well," here Lexi took a deep breath, as if about to impart some sort of huge secret. It was unusual, because everything else had shared had been so matter-of-fact. "Technically, magic originates from another dimension. Witches and Wizards are not native to this 'verse. So you, as not only a wizard, but a prophesied one, fall under our jurisdiction."

"Plus, we have a tendency to pick up strays with extraordinary abilities." Damyon added. "I told you we were a band of misfits. You have the ability to great things, Harry Potter, and we can help you do them."

Harry stared, unable to process. Magic was an accident from another dimension? He was extraordinary? He had never quite believed that, even after five years of being the Boy Who Lived, he still saw himself as a freak. Not someone worth taking the time for. Lexi caught his eye and he looked away at her knowing look.

"We all start like that," she said. "But different doesn't necessarily mean bad. If we don't teach you anything else, we hope to teach you that."

"But we will teach you other stuff." Damyon added. Lexi glared at him and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "What? The kid needs to learn how to defend himself. And everyone loves learning how to rig a bomb to bus like in speed. It's a practical skill."

Lexi rolled her eyes. "C'mon, let's go before Thea comes back and makes you stay another night for observation. I'll show you your room and we'll plan a schedule to get you started."

Harry followed Lexi's shape and promptly tripped over a bed. She turned and, realizing her mistake, grinned apologetically. She then held out her hand and led him, arm and arm, out of the Hospital.

_A/N: A huge thank you to anyone who is resuming this story from many years ago, and a welcome to those of you just starting up. I'm hoping that this will be more regular. I welcome all feedback, positive or negative and will try to take suggestions into consideration. _

_The usual contest about the names applies, Damyon being the new character this chapter. _


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